A Time to Love
by JRWStudios
Summary: They were only children when they met, a foreign girl staying with his family in France. It was a month-long friendship that turned into years of letters, little gifts exchanged. So his decision to come to America should make her happy, right? Not when she worries about recognizing him! Human! France story. France and other such characters belong to Himaruya.
1. Prologue

A/N: There is a whole lot of French in this chapter, but all of it (except the really, really easy bit) is translated at the bottom. If you don't understand, just scroll down real quick or something.

* * *

Prologue: France, Will I Leave You in The Past?

A little girl looked about nervously as she walked through the Marseille Provence Airport, clutching her large book bag to her chest. She was scared, looking around for a uniformed adult to help her, and finally spotting a police officer talking to a pilot. The little girl gulped, but walked over and hesitantly tugged the officer's shirt. The man looked down at her in shock, but noticing her teary eyes, pulled his cover off and kneeled.

"Es-vous perdu?"

'Perdu', one word her parents had made sure she learned. She nodded, but looked down at her feet.

"Je dois anglais, s'il vous plaît..." she was hesitant to look back up at him, having been warned about the usual French response to a horrible accent, and her American voice was shining through loud and clear. However, much to her relief, he didn't seem bothered, instead giving her a smile.

"What's wrong?"

"I need a cab to take me somewhere." she reached into a side pocket of the bag to pull out a piece of paper. "To here."

The officer took the paper, then frowned. "The Bonnefoy residence? Ah, it is on my way home. I could take you there, if you would not mind waiting a few minutes. It would maybe be safer for you, since you travel alone and are not, euh, familiar with France."

"I would hate to be a bother."

"No bother, no bother." he patted her shoulder, getting back to his feet. "S'il vous plaît, donnez-moi un instant."

The girl nodded, and waited patiently as he turned on his radio to say something to whoever was on the other end. In a few minutes, the officer was giving her a smile, and holding out his hand to gently take her bag from her arms, only to offer his free hand to her. She slowly accepted it, and followed him out to a police car. He chuckled quietly, helping her in so he could get in himself.

"What is your name, hm?"

"Je M'appelle Stéphanie."

"Ah," he smiled softly. "Je M'appelle Stephen!"

Stephanie looked at him in wonder. "Our names match."

"Oui." Stephen laughed, driving much more carefully than he was used to down the busy streets of Marseille, until he surprised her by coming to a stop in front of a large home. The little American suddenly appeared nervous once more, and was slow to let the man help her from his car. But she took his hand and walked up to the door with him, beginning to shake a little when he knocked.

However, her nervousness only increased when a young boy, maybe a year or two older than her, answered the door. His golden blond hair shined in the sun-light as he looked at her with curiosity in his blue eyes.

"Puis-je vous aider, officier?"

"Est votre maison mère, François?"

"Oui. Maman! L'officier de police qui vit dans la rue est ici! Et il a une fille étrange avec lui!"

"Est-elle brune aux yeux bruns?"

"Oui!" Francis looked over his shoulder as a tall woman with wild but beautiful blonde hair and piercing blue-green eyes approached. The woman took one looked at the nervous Stephanie and burst into a smile.

"Stéphanie, welcome to our home! At-elle rencontré aucune difficulté, monsieur?" she held out a hand to the girl, coaxing her over to her. "It's okay little one, no need to be scared."

"Cela semble être le problème, madame. Je crois qu'elle avait peur et chercha quelqu'un qu'elle pensait pourrait aider." the man chuckled, handing her book bag to Francis. "Tant qu'elle est là en toute sécurité, je mieux être éteint."

"Oui. Au revoir."

"Ciao. Goodbye Stéphanie."

"A-Au revoir Stephen. Merci!"

Stephen smiled, patting her head before returning to his car. As soon as he was leaving, Francis and his mother both turned their attention to the girl, whom suddenly seemed nervous again. She looked at her feet, shifting her weight from side-to-side until Francis finally reached out a hand to her.

"Stéphanie?"

"Francis?" she slowly shook his hand, but drew back when he looked at his mother in confusion.

"Est-ce que mon nom sonne en anglais?"

"Oui." the mom put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "He was confused about how you said his name is all. He's never heard some one say it in English before. You may just call me maman while you're here, Stéphanie. After all, you will be much like my daughter during your stay!"

"T-than-merci madame..." she was getting flustered, so the woman gave her son a smile.

"Pouvez-vous lui montrer où elle va rester? Et rappelez-vous, elle sait beaucoup plus anglais que français. Si vous ne savez pas comment l'expliquer quelque chose, venez me demander, ou faire de votre mieux."

"Oui, maman." Francis reached down to take Stephanie's hand, making her looked back at him in surprise. With a tilt of his head he was soon leading her through his home to a back bedroom. It made her gasp when she saw how nice it was, filled with beautiful wooden furniture that she thought resembled a princess set her grandfather once made for her dollhouse. Francis didn't seem to understand her reaction, letting go of her hand to go and sit her bag in a chair.

"Your room." was all he said before going back to her. "Nice?"

Stephanie nodded, walking over to the chair. She pulled off her shoes to put just beneath it, then surprised Francis when she opened her bag and immediately pulled out a camera. The girl took a few bedrooms of the room, then, upon noticing her companions clear confusion, began to blush.

"My parents wanted me to takes pictures of everything so they could see."

"Oh." he frowned, but walked over and held out his hand. "May I?"

Stephanie was slow to hand over her camera, but became confused when he gently took her hand and led her over to the window. He opened it up, and with out letting her look motioned for her to sit on the windowsill. More confused than before, she put on a smile when he held up the camera, but turned to look out when he lowered it again. Francis couldn't help but chuckle when she let out an amazed gasp, hoisting herself up carefully to get a better look at the view.

"I can see right out to the water!"

"That view is one of the reasons I bought this house," the voice of Francis's mother made both children turn to look to the doorway. There, the blonde stood with a smile, holding a tray of little snacks. "Why don't you two come to the parlor and chat there? Pouvez-vous prendre Stéphanie à la salle de séjour s'il vous plaît? François?"

"Oui, maman." Francis handed the camera back to the American, and walked over to his mother to take the tray from her. Stephanie put the camera down on the nightstand beside the bed, and hurried after the boy when he started to leave the room. It made his mother laugh, watching the nervous girl follow her son around like a lost puppy. Francis didn't seem to notice, sitting the tray of snacks down on the coffee table before he sat on the sofa. Stephanie was quick to join him, looking at the tray in wonder. It seemed that what her host family considered snacks were little home-made crepes, something Stephanie had only ever seen as desert options in fancy restaurants (or as breakfast items at the local IHOP). Now it was Francis's turn to laugh, watching the girl hesitate to pick up on of the delicious items.

"Maman made them, so they are really, euh, good."

"These are things you only eat at restaurants back home. For desert." she was eager to bite into one, and pulled back with a smile as she licked a bit of fleeing chocolate from her lip. "They are good!"

"Oui... uhm... Maman, comment puis-je demander quel âge elle a?"

"Je crois que tu dites "how old are you"."

Francis turned to Stephanie, ready to speak again, but she cut him off when she held up a hand. "J'ai dix ans. I do know some French..."

The boy could hear his mother laughing in the kitchen, making him blush. "J'ai douze ans..."

"Douze? Only two years older than me!" She smiled. "Have you traveled outside of France before?"

"Oui, we've been all over Europe. Is it true in Amerique you can drive for hours without crossing a border?"

"It is! Except where I live. I'm from the capital, D.C., which is treated like its own state."

"Like, uh, Vatican City?"

"Yes." she smiled. "It's a little weird, to be honest."

Mrs. Bonnefoy walked into the room, just in time for the two to launch into a series of questions, doing their best to give each other easy to understand answers. It was clear by the way they were ignoring the rules of etiquette and talking even when eating the crepes she had made for them, that the children were becoming fast friends. She smiled, opting to leave them be until dinner was ready.

* * *

For the rest of the month the pair was inseparable, going everywhere and exploring everything together. Stephanie had been amazed at all the places Francis could take her without his mother tagging along, and the two had even hopped on a train and gone to visit his father in Rome, where Stephanie had met her friend's brother and half-brother. It had surprised her, and on the way home all she could do was ask questions about the Italian boys, whom were so radically different from her French companion.

But Francis thought her visit was way too short, hugging her tightly during the entire ride to the airport. Stephanie had let him hold her, but had been surprised when he had finally pulled away, taking off his favorite red scarf to tie around her neck as they stood outside the boarding ramp.

"Promise you'll write to me?"

"Je promets!" she smiled, hugging first his mother, then him, one last time. "Au revoir François, madame Bonnefoy."

"Good bye, Stéphanie."

* * *

French to English:

Es-vous perdu? - Are you lost?

Je dois anglais, s'il vous plaît - I need English, please

S'il vous plaît, donnez-moi un instant - Please, give me a moment

Je M'appelle Stéphanie/Stephen - My name is Stephanie/Stephen

Puis-je vous aider, officier? - Can I help you, officer?

Est votre maison mère, François? - Is your mother home, Francis? (Could also be translated as, "Your parent, Francis?)

L'officier de police qui vit dans la rue est ici! Et il a une fille étrange avec lui! - The police officer who lives down the street is here! And he has a strange girl with him!

Est-elle brune aux yeux bruns? - Is she brunette with brown eyes?

At-elle rencontré aucune difficulté, monsieur? - Has she met any difficulty, sir?

Cela semble être le problème, madame. Je crois qu'elle avait peur et chercha quelqu'un qu'elle pensait pourrait aider. Tant qu'elle est là en toute sécurité, je mieux être éteint. - That would seem to be the problem, ma'am. I believe she was scared, so looked for someone she thought could help. As long as it's safe, I best be off.

Est-ce que mon nom sonne en anglais? - Is that how my name sounds in English?

Pouvez-vous lui montrer où elle va rester? Et rappelez-vous, elle sait beaucoup plus anglais que français. Si vous ne savez pas comment l'expliquer quelque chose, venez me demander, ou faire de votre mieux. - Can you show her where she will be staying? And remember, she knows a lot more English than French. If you do not know how to explain something, just ask me, or do your best.

Pouvez-vous prendre Stephanie à la salle de séjour s'il vous plaît? - Can you take Stephanie in the living room please?

Maman, comment puis-je demander quel âge elle a? - Mom, how can I ask how old she is?

Je crois que tu dites... - I think you say...

J'ai dix/douze ans - I'm ten/twelve years old

Je promets! - I promise!


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Six Years Later

"Stephanie! You have a letter waiting for you!"

"Stephanie?"

The brunette girl groaned, slowly sitting up in bed to pull a few wild strands of hair from her mouth. "Yeah, I'm up, I'm up! Gimme... Gimme a second..."

"It's from Francis, Stephanie. And I think it's important! Looks like it was sent over night!"

"Slip it under the door." She yawned, stretching before she got out of bed. The letter was quickly slid under her door, and she walked over to retrieve it before returning to her dresser. It was opened carefully, the envelope put in a card holder with all of the previous envelopes from Francis, and the paper unfolded so she could read as she got dressed.

"Ma très chère Stéphanie, I am happy to tell you that I will be arriving in Washington, D.C. very soon to begin attending a nearby college. I have already spoken to your parents, and if you haven't been told yet (which I presume you haven't) I will be staying with you for the duration of my studies, or until some one gets annoyed and kicks me out." she snorted, imagining the look of anger on her father's face that he would no-doubt have the first time Francis paid her any compliment. "I will be arriving there on xx/xx/xxxx, around xxhxx, at Ronald Reagan National Airport, and your parents told me I could take a subway to Union Station and could be met there by you since it is close to where you live? They said if all goes right I should make it there by xxhxx, so would you mind being out front around xxhxx? I would very much appreciate having you there to meet me, ma belle amie. À bientôt! Francis"

"That's when he'll get here?" Stephanie glanced at her clock. "That's in about thirty minutes... Mom, could make me some coffee? I have to go to Union Station! Oh, and thanks for not telling me that my friend will be staying here! I would have cleaned my room!"

"If that's all it took to keep your room clean I would have done it months ago!" her mothers shout was overshadowed by her father's loud laughter, making the girl crack a smile before hurrying to get dressed. She donned some jeans and a black shirt that said "Le Fleur" on it that Francis had sent her a few months before, as well as the blue beret and Fleur dis Lis locket he had sent her in previous years. She glared at her flaking cowboy boots when she finally pulled them on, and made sure to grab the red scarf she had held onto for some many years before she left the room.

"Make sure to take your taser darling!"

"It's in my purse mom." Stephanie muttered, grabbing the falling apart bag and slinging it across her chest. "Coffee?"

Her father handed her a travel mug as he passed, heading for the living room. "Coffee."

"Thanks. I'll be back soon!" She listened to her parents shout out their goodbyes as she shut her front door, sipping on her coffee as she began to walk toward the station. It took her a while, what with the sidewalks being crowded by both locals and tourists alike. Stephanie muttered under her breath, her hand twitching over her purse. She cut her eyes at many a person who got too close for comfort, but finally she made it to Union, and looked up the steps in worry.

While she and her friends had exchanged many things over the past few years, they had never really thought of exchanging photos.

'What if he's changed so much I don't recognize him?' she was beginning to get nervous. 'I should have brought a little sign or something.'

The girl let her eyes leave the station doors for one second as she tried to fight her worry back, though it seemed that she would be the only one who was worried.

"Tiens! Stéphanie!" her gaze shot back up to the station, locking immediately on a familiar looking man as he hurried down the steps, only to drop his two bags beside him and wrap her in a hug.

"Francis! God, you actually kinda scared me!" she held her coffee carefully, trying to make sure it didn't spill on either of them. "And you're here early!"

"The subway was running properly I guess." he smiled, pulling away to look at her properly. "My... Tu êtes devenus très beau, ma amie. Tu as un petit-ami, ne pas? You must have one, with your beauty."

"I'm not that pretty, at least, not by American standards." she smiled slightly. "Boys over here prefer fake and jobless over real and smart."

"Je ne sais pas pourquoi..." he looked disappointed, leaning down to pick his bags back up. When he stood again, she couldn't help but reach up and tickle his chin.

"You're getting a little hairy there Francis. And tall."

"Oui, well, I thought it better to allow my looks to mature as I did." he chuckled. "Lead the way."

"Oui." she smirked and did as instructed, finishing up her coffee by the time they reached her front door. Francis looked at the outside of the townhouse as she unlocked the door, and when he followed her in he was a bit surprised to find all the lights off.

About as surprised as she was, actually.

Stephanie huffed, walking through to the kitchen and turning on the lights as she passed. He looked curiously over her shoulder when she paused at the counter to pick up a note, then watched her ball it up and toss it into a trashcan in the corner.

"Dad got called in to work and mom went to gets more groceries."

"Called in? Where does he work?" Francis turned, following her to a staircase, then up them to go down a hall.

"He's an accountant at a local company, but he's also a volunteer firefighter so that's probably where he is right now."

"Oh." he frowned again, letting her open a door for him to enter a room. It was rather plain compared to his home, making Stephanie a little self-conscience, knowing his lifestyle was a bit fancier than her own, but he didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, all he did was set his bags down, remove his shoes, then reach into the side pocket of his book bag to retrieve a camera.

"Oh now that's familiar." she laughed, but turned bright red when he turned the lens on her, taking a picture before she could either hide or run.

"Not quite, ma amie." he smirked, then reached back into the book bag to pull out a paper-wrapped item. "I'm sure you noticed that I didn't send a package for your birthday this year? Well I was saving up for something special."

The girl looked curiously at the item, carefully taking it from him to unwrap as he continued. "You mentioned in one of your letters that you were collecting old military badges, so I found some for you that you couldn't get any where else."

She gasped, looking down at the carefully cleaned and polished medals, slowly reaching into the group to run her fingertips over them. "Wow... Francis, how did you-"

"Je savais que quelques personnes." he scoffed, "all I needed was proper... motivation."

"This is wonderful Francis." the man couldn't help but tense up a little when she looked up at him with such a warm, bright smile. "Merci, merci beaucoup!"

"Bien sûr... Seul le meilleur pour ma amie!" he smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder, put tensing visibly when he happened to see what was behind her. Stephanie turned to look at what had caused him to suddenly look scared, and couldn't help but groan when she saw her father standing in the doorway, his hand on the collar of their great pyrenees, whom was growling quietly under his breath.

"Well, well, well, it looks like he got here alright," her father's voice was dripping with venom. "I hope he didn't have a rough journey."

"Dad, cut it out. Francis is my friend and if you even think about turning Spade loose on him I will throw all of your coffee in the trash and force you to drink nothing but decaf."

"You wouldn't dare."

Francis backed away when she put on a devious smirk, making even Spade duck down. "Do you really want to take that chance?"

"...No..." her father let go of the dog's collar, and Francis was relieved to watch him walk over, wagging his tail as he sniffed at the blond's slacks. Stephanie giggled, petting her dog's head before motioning for her friend to follow her from the room.

"Sorry about my dad, he's been a little weird about boys."

"Only the good-looking ones that are brave enough to put a hand on you..." the man muttered, earning a wack on the shoulder from his daughter. "Hey, I'm your father I'm supposed to be suspicious of guys you hang out with because I know how they think and behave!"

"Not this one you don't." she glanced back at her friend. "Il pense que tous les gars je suis avec des amis veut obtenir dans le lit avec moi."

"Hey don't start switching languages on me young lady!" he snapped, reaching over to pinch her cheek. "You wouldn't even know this boy if I hadn't convinced your mother you would be safe going to France!"

"Yes, I know." she grabbed his hand. "You only mention it every time I get a letter or a package dad."

"How did you grow up to be so mean to me, huh?"

She grinned. "Maybe it's all the caffeine."

"...you really are my kid."

Francis chuckled, trying not to fall over Spade as they walked down the stairs together. Stephanie looked back at him and smiled, and though her father didn't say anything the blond didn't miss the annoyed twitch of his eyebrow. Not that it stopped him from smiling back.

"So, how has your school been Stéphanie?"

"Pas mal..." she rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm doing pretty good in everything except math..."

"That's what you get for being in all advanced classes!" her dad teased, but turned to flee when his daughter turned to him with an evil look in her eyes.

"Who's fault is it that I'm in all advanced classes? Hm? WHo was it that said 'the class president should be a good role model for everyone else' huh? It wasn't me!"

Francis reached out to stop her from chasing after the man, and succeeded in having her brown eyes return to his face. "Quel genre de maths?"

"Calculus..." she looked embarrassed.

"C'est tout?" he chuckled. "Alors permettez-moi de aide."

"Vraiment?" she looked hopeful.

"Oui, bien sûr!" the boy reached out to adjust her scarf, making her stiffen when she realized he was copying the movement he did when he gave it to her at the airport six years earlier. "Calculus was one of my best subjects, so I should be able to help you grasp it."

"Good," she suddenly looked nervous again. "Because I have a test tomorrow..."

"Then we better get started, oui?"

* * *

French - English:

Tu êtes devenus très beau, ma amie. - You have become beautiful, my friend.

Tu as un petit-ami, ne pas? - You have a boyfriend, right?

Je ne sais pas pourquoi ... - I don't know why...

Je savais que quelques personnes. - I knew a few people

Bien sûr... Seul le meilleur pour ma amie! - Of course... only the best for my friend!

Il pense que tous les gars je suis avec des amis veut obtenir dans le lit avec moi. - He thinks all guys I'm friends with want to get into bed with me.

Quel genre de maths? - What kind of math?

C'est tout? Alors permettez-moi de aide. - Is that all? So allow me to help.

Vraiment? - Really?


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Francis struggled to keep his eyes open as he watched Stephanie hurry around the living room, gathering up the scattered papers and books from their little study session the previous night. She had hurriedly wolfed down her breakfast of eggs and bacon before chugging a still hot cup of coffee, then ran to the living room to gather her things.

"You didn't have to wake up with me you know. Retourne te coucher." the girl started to lean over to grab her pencil, but seemed to remember she was in a skirt and kneeled carefully instead.

"Et vous laisser courir sauvage? Non." he yawned. "Besides, it would be rude."

"Not really." she finally had gathered all her things, and looked at the clock again. "Did I really eat that fast...? I still have twenty minutes before I have to leave."

"Puis redresser cet uniforme..." he walked over, and without thinking reached out to smooth her sweater vest back down. Stephanie scoffed, tilting her head back when his hands moved to untie then retie her tie. She let him step back, then tucked her shirt and smoothed her skirt before walking over to the door to step into her school shoes.

"As much as I hate the dress-code, I do love the school."

"Is it a private school?"

"Oui." she looked back at him. "One of the best in the country... oh yeah I forgot to ask, you're eighteen right? So why are you going to college now?"

"I graduated a year early, and used that year to travel around and figure out some things." he smiled sadly. "Maman wanted me to get a better education and do something with my life, so I decided to come over here and attend college."

"That must have made her happy."

"Je l'espère... I never told you this, but maman, she died about three years ago." Francis sighed when she gasped, and reached up to wipe his eyes. "My father was no help, so I decided to stay put until I finished school."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry about anything. You knew how it was over there." he looked over at her again. "Besides, as long as you kept sending me all those happy letters, I was able to keep smiling. I thought if I told you, those letters would stop being as happy..."

"I understand." she reached out to hold one of his hands. "But... how did she...?"

"Sudden cardiac arrest. The doctors stabilized her for as long as they could, but she had suffered too much damage. They kept her alive just long enough for her to speak to me one last time, then, put her in a coma so she would die without feeling anymore pain... Au moins, on m'a dit qu'elle ne serait pas rien sentir ..."

"I see... You don't have to tell me anymore." she gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then let go. "I'm going to go ahead and leave for school in case the subway's late or something. I'll see you this afternoon, alright?"

"Alright. Au revoir."

She smiled at him one more time before stepping out the door. "Ciao."

* * *

"So your pen pal is all grown up and staying at your place? Oh, I smell romance in bloom!"

"C'mon Steph, tell us about him!"

"Girls calm down." Stephanie shut her locker, then turned to look at her over-excited friends. "Look, I told you two this morning all about this."

"You didn't tell us if he was hot though!" her childhood friend, four foot nine Teresa, whined, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. "Come on!"

Five foot eight Kelly nodded in agreement, following the two shorter girls down the hall as they started for the exit. "You can't hog him if you're not gonna make a move."

"Girls, he's eighteen and I'm sixteen!" Stephanie looked exasperated. "Besides, he's in college."

"Oh I see." Teresa smirked. "You're afraid you're not his type."

"What?"

"He's a well-traveled, well-educated foreign man who is probably gorgeous as hell with an accent that will make the panties of every American girl he attends classes with drop to the floor. Of course you would be worried about being his type!" her smirk turned into a grin when the girl froze to the cement of the school steps. "Aw, honey, don't worry! I'm sure he'll still be your weekend friend!"

"Non, I would rather be her everyday friend." Francis chuckled when Teresa whipped around to see the Frenchman. Stephanie blushed, trying to side-step the man but feeling her face burn hotter when he took her books from her, and put an arm across her shoulders. "Question, how good is your mother at cooking by direction?"

"Depends on what it is."

"Quiche?"

Stephanie gave her friends a worried look. "I better go before mom burns the house down."

"Yeah, you better run." Kelly laughed, grabbing Teresa's arm to drag her away.

"Is it that bad?" Francis looked concerned, following Stephanie out of the school yard. Her worried look was all the reply he needed, shifting her books in his arm the man reached out to grab her hand in his free one, and stepped up to pull her down the sidewalk a step behind him. Stephanie couldn't help the blush that lit up her face; her hand felt warm and was tingling a bit where their skin met. It was so wrong, she knew that, but she let her fingers intertwine with his and quickened her pace so they were step-in-step. Francis gave her that deviously handsome smile of his, and pulled her carefully around a corner and into the subway station.

"If I had known your mother was a, ahem, troubled cook, I might have stayed to help her."

"There wouldn't be a point. She's so stubborn she'd chase you out of the kitchen and still try to do it herself."

* * *

"Mom! Dad! I'm home!" Stephanie led her friend through the door, and kicked off her shoes before walking toward the kitchen. "Mom?"

"Busy honey!"

"Damn woman's trying to burn the house down again." her dad muttered as he walked from the kitchen, a cup in one hand and the newspaper in the other. "I have that one Chinese place on standby in case we need it. Again..."

Francis looked a little concerned, and slipped by his friend to go join her mother in the kitchen. Stephanie watched as he tried to coax her mother into allowing him to help, but soon turned to go sit in the living room with her dad. Judging by the lack of fussy mother-talk coming from the kitchen, Francis must have succeeded in allowing him to help her, though soon both of them were coming to sit in the living room. The Frenchman shot his friend a triumphant smile, but it seemed that her father didn't take it that way, glaring at the man. Stephanie elbowed him in the ribs, grinning when he grunted in pain.

"So it's in the oven, right?"

"Oui." he nodded. "It shouldn't be long until dinner."

"Good, then that gives you plenty of time to convince dad that you're not a creep." the girl smirked, grabbing her suddenly confused mother's arm to pull her back to the kitchen. Francis looked after her in horror, then back at her father in terror. The man suddenly looked as though he was ready to kill the poor boy, and it made him gulp.

"Elle est sérieux à ce sujet? L'homme ne serait pas me faire confiance... Il peut même essayer de me tuer..." he muttered, trying to think of what to say to the man across from him. The older man cleared his throat and crossed his arms.

"Well, you got something to say kid?"

"Yes sir. I would never hurt Stephanie, and I think you know that. After all, you've allowed her to receive all of my letters and packages for the past six years, as well as allowing me to live with you for a bit of time."

"Ha, doesn't mean I trust you completely. This is my daughter you obviously have a thing for, and should you make a move on her it will certainly mean the end of your life. Even if I don't get my hands on you, the law around here will screw you over so badly you will be sent straight back to France with no chance of returning State side."

"The law?"

"She's under eighteen. Here that means she's a minor. You, being eighteen and out of high school, means you are an adult. You can only be friends with her, or you could be charged as a pedophile."

"Well I can certainly understand that." Francis arched an eyebrow. "But you don't honestly think I would attempt to go anywhere past friendship with Stephanie unless she asked me to. She's such a kind, innocent young woman, having a man force himself on her in even the slightest way could corrupt and ruin her. I wouldn't want her to fall prey to that kind of thing."

"So we have an understanding."

"Of course we do, I just ask that you trust me a little more. I worked hard to make sure she could trust me completely, but she craves your approval so much I think any continuing doubt on your part would ruin that."

"Ha! You better work to gain it."

"I plain to. Stephanie, écoute sur d'autres conversations est pas poli."

Stephanie stepped around the corner, face red with embarrassment from being caught eavesdropping. "Comment saviez-vous que j'y étais?"

"Tu n'êtes pas aussi sournoise que tu penses."

She scoffed. "Well dinner is ready, if you boys are ready to eat."

"I am."

"Starving, like always. I'm just hoping your mom isn't gonna give us food poisoning. If she does, I blame Francis. He gave her the recipe."

"She's the one who asked if I had one."

"You didn't have to say yes."

"I was raised an honest child and I will stay honest as a man."

* * *

French to English:

Retourne te coucher. - Go back to bed

Et vous laisser courir sauvage? Non. - And let you run wild? No.

Puis redresser cet uniforme ... - then straighten this uniform...

Je l'espère. - I hope.

Au moins, on m'a dit qu'elle ne serait pas rien sentir ... - at least, I was told that she would not feel anything...

Elle est sérieux à ce sujet? - She is serious about it?

L'homme ne serait pas me faire confiance. - The man would not trust me.

Il peut même essayer de me tuer. - He may even try to kill me.

Stephanie, écoute sur d'autres conversations est pas poli. - Stephanie, listening to other conversations is not polite.

Comment saviez-vous que j'y étais? - how did you know I was there?

Tu n'êtes pas aussi sournoise que tu penses. - you're not as sneaky as you think.


End file.
